Or Something
by always krissy
Summary: Ephram comes to an understanding. [EphramBright, 11]


TITLE: Or Something  
AUTHOR: always krissy  
PAIRING: Ephramish POV: Bright/Ephram, (mention of Ephram/Madison)  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This was written for blinkiesays, part of the Everwood Secret Santa project, run by Visbot (you are awesome! *grins*). I hope you like, and Merry Christmas. :D  
DISCLAIMER: Everwood ain't mine. But I love the characters.   
RATING: PG-13 at the highest, but really, G/PG! 

  
Andy Brown hummed to himself as he dug through the weathered brown packing box. It was littered full of Christmas decorations: strings of lights, garland, and half opened boxes of tinsel, ornaments, and window decals. Everything was from New York and hadn't been opened or pawed through since. It was Delia's request -- to celebrate the holidays in both traditions. 

Andy wasn't going to argue with her -- he was more than willing to comply with his daughter's wishes. If anything, just to keep her mind off Linda. It had been a tense few weeks -- between Thanksgiving, Madison, Linda... And Ephram's obvious charity to Bright Abbott. 

Well, Andy could only imagine that it was charity. He couldn't fathom an actual friendship between the two. It wasn't like they didn't have anything in common or anything like that, but after Ephram's dislike for a year? It was just...surprising. Weird, even. 

_But not at all unthinkable_, a little voice whispered. Shaking his head, he returned to the cardboard box. 

--- 

Andy was beginning to untangle a large wad of Christmas lights (which, he promised himself, would never, ever happen again) when the front door opened, and was slammed shut. Andy would recognize that sound always as Ephram's entrance. It was typical and he didn't bother to reprimand him. It never seemed to work, anyway. 

"Dude, Dr. Brown, that's a lot of lights." 

Andy looked up, and offered Bright a smile, as he walked into the living room. "Would you like to help untangle them?" 

Nose wrinkling, Bright turned his head to Ephram, who was coming in behind him, carrying a single white plastic bag at his side. "You're dad is such a slave laborer," but Bright took the lights from Andy, and found a spot on the couch to work. 

Andy smiled at his son, and gestured to a bare tree behind him. "Help me decorate it. Delia's at Sam's; her orders were for this to be done by the time she got back." 

Ephram stared at the tree, then looked at Bright, and then at his father. 

"I don't think so, no." 

"Aww, come on man, help your dad." Bright looked wistfully at the tree. "We usually have a big display, but with Amy this year... we don't have 'time.' We don't even have a tree up. Not that it matters much; trees are dorky when it's your own." Andy and Ephram both could hear the bitterness hidden behind the words. 

Andy raised an eyebrow at his son, "So, want to help your ol' man with the dorky tree?" 

Ephram bit his lip, trying not to laugh at the stupidity behind that statement, and then peered at Bright, who was concentrating on the bundle of lights, tongue sticking slightly out of the corner of his mouth. His lips twitched again, before giving a resigned sigh, and nodded. "Yeah, sure. Got nothing better to do." 

Andy handed him a box of ornaments. "Here, go through them, and throw away anything that's broken or just... Needed to be tossed." 

Ephram accepted it and gave a nod of understand, and began to paw through them. It had always been something his family had done: celebrating both Hanukkah and Christmas. It had always made him look forward to the holidays, until his mother had died, and then they just became a blur of unwanted memories. Not that their holidays had been bad so far, just not . . . as happy as they had been before. His mother had always put up the tree, the Menorah . . . His mother had always baked gingerbread cookies. His mother had always made his father string Christmas lights around their front window the weekend of Thanksgiving. His mother had been the one to always hang mistletoe and garland and decorate the windows with Disney decals. His mother had always done . . . everything. 

And now she was gone, and it was left up to Andy and Ephram, and Ephram desperately wished he had paid more attention. 

"E... hey, E!" 

Ephram blinked, and scowled, "Don't call me 'E.'" 

"Well, it got your attention," Bright informed him, "but your dad went to buy new lights." Bright nodded towards the pile that he'd been trying to fix. "The lights... Let's just say my dad is far superior than your dad is at this." 

"He goes all out then?" Ephram struggled with the idea of Harold Abbott decking his house out for the holiday. It just seemed... absurd. 

"Dude, _yeah_. Ever seen those houses in the movies? That, like... Well, it's like a much, much calmer version of the house in _Christmas Vacation_. Dad and this other guy, Mr. Robertson, always compete. Not this year, though... No time." Unspoken, _too worried about Amy to care about anyone else_. 

It had come unexpected, and the need was too great to stop him, but he put a hand on Bright's shoulder. "You okay?" They'd been working on this friend thing since the start of the summer, and although Ephram was glad they'd made a peace of some sort, it was still awkward at times. Like now. He wondered if Bright even noticed his lingering hand, or if Ephram should even be worried he was noticing it. 

Bright didn't answer, and Ephram was surprised to know it worried him. Bright usually had something to say. And as the silence continued, Ephram fought for something to say. Anything. 

"I ended things with Madison." 

The silence continued, before Bright spoke, "Dude, _why_?" 

"She thinks I'm in love with someone else." 

"Oh. Amy, right?" 

Ephram shrugged. It hadn't surprised him that Madison had accused him of being in love with someone else. She wouldn't say who, but her expression told him it was strikingly obvious, even if he didn't know it. 

"No, not Amy," Ephram said. He thought back to the year he'd been head over heels in love with her. She was everything he'd always wanted in a girl. But it was obvious that it would never happen. And as he thought about the evolving friendship with Bright, he was glad it would never happen. How awkward would that be? To discuss your love life with her brother. 

"You can't ever tell your dad, man." 

"Oh, I know," Ephram rolled his eyes, "I'll never hear the end of it. But he'll be disappointed; I'm sure, because it doesn't leave me heart broken. Super dad to the rescue and all." 

"You can take your hand off my arm now." 

"Oh. Sorry." Ephram realized he wasn't really, and reluctantly removed it. He unconsciously crossed his arms across his chest as they fell back into silence. "I got you a Christmas present." 

"You did?" There was surprise laced in Bright's words. "I, man... I didn't get you anything." 

"You don't need to. My good deed of the year, and all." He picked up the bag from the floor where he'd been standing since coming home and handed it to him. "To distract you from home," he explained, when Bright read the bag's logo. It was from a video store in Denver. Bright had gone to it thousands of times in the past. And already Bright knew what it was. 

Bright peered into the bag, and looked back at Ephram, an amused glint shining in his eyes. "You are _so_ watching this with me." 

Ephram didn't have the heart to argue. Not when the present was doing its job. It brought back Bright's smile, and if it meant sitting through _Pirates of the Caribbean_ for the sixteenth time since being released on DVD, well... 

"As long as you don't make me call you captain again," Ephram grimaced, ignoring Bright's smirk. Oh, the things he did for his friends . . . 

Not bothering with a response, Bright grabbed his hand, surprising them both when Ephram didn't pull away. 

Maybe it wasn't a bad thing. More like unexpected and promising. 

Or something. 


End file.
